


Just As She Deserves

by Silver Lioness (Rumpels_Darker_Dearie)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, May/December Relationship, Sexually Active Hermione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 06:35:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11845977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumpels_Darker_Dearie/pseuds/Silver%20Lioness
Summary: The night of the seven Potters, Hermione and Kingsley are tired, stiff and sore. They manage to land safely near a stream where Hermione cleans herself of the grime of battle asking Kingsley to wash her back for her. Later that night feelings are revealed and acted upon but who is spying on them?





	Just As She Deserves

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the world of Harry Potter, if I did they would not be books children should read.

The 1st rock thrown again  
**Welcome to hell, little Saint**  
Mother Gaia in slaughter  
**Welcome to paradise, Soldier**

My 1st cry never ending  
**All life is to fear for life**  
You fool, you wanderer  
**You challenged the gods and lost**

 **Save yourself a penny for the ferryman**  
Save yourself and let them suffer  
In hope  
**In love**  
This world ain't ready for The Ark

Writer(s): Tuomas Lauri Johannes Holopainen Nightwish, Planet Hell from their Once Album.

 

**JUST AS SHE DESERVES**

 

Well, that went as well as could be expected, Hermione sighed. Once the thestral had landed in the moons rays near a sparkling stream. Hermione immediately ran to the source of sparkling vita aqua. Once she had drunk her fill the Polyjuice had started to wear off. Kingsley looked away as it somewhat disturbed him to see Harry Potter turn into luscious young witch – she had brought her clothes out of her backpack, he noticed.

Hermione did not care who saw her naked at this moment in time. Wearing Harry's skin was a bit too odd, considering what she had been through with him, that was saying something. She lowered her underwear clad body in the cold stream, then pulled something else out of a bag that Kingsley did not know she had until now – he turned around and wished he had not as she was now holding some sort of scrunchy and lathering it with gloopy stuff which he assumed to be shower gel. Why wasn't she using magic? Suddenly, as if she had read his mind, which was ridiculous since she was not a Legilimens, she answered his private query.

“Sometimes it is best to be at one with nature, do you not think, Auror Shacklebolt?”

 _Auror_ Shacklebolt – he shuddered, that made him feel like a pervert. “Kingsley,” he said softly.

“What was that?” Hermione turned around seemingly unaware she was not hiding much in the glow of the moon and stars.

“I said you can call me Kingsley,” he ground his teeth together whilst finding the sparkling slug's trail on a rock particularly interesting. “We're on the same side, we've just fought together on a thestral, so I suppose you can call me Kingsley.”

“Then you must call me Hermione,” she said as she scrubbed some dirt and grime of her skin. “Um, Kingsley, could you possibly do my back for me?”

His throat dried at the thought of being close to a dripping wet hot young witch, lathering... gods that was Tahitian flowers and... honey? Kingsley battled with the urge to be good and be an animal. The animal side was definitely winning. Hermione swam then elegantly turned around and lazily did back strokes to get to the other side of the stream where she could see the outline of the thestral in the shimmering moonlight. She reached the shore, picked up her heavy soaked hair that had turned into black ringlets. Water dripped off the ends sparkling like crystals in the moonlit haze. He helped hold her hair up with one hand and took the deliciously scented scrunchy in the other then scrubbed her back in gentle circular motions.

“Kingsley,” she sighed as she tilted her head back accidentally resting her cheek on his hand that had slipped on her shoulder.

“UM, Hermione, I think you're ah – clean, now.”

Hermione regretted speaking the moment she felt his hand withdraw from her skin. What would she give to feel _that_ hand on other places on her body?

“Thank you, Kingsley,” she said as calmly as she could.

When she felt clean enough Kingsley laid his cloak on the ground to prevent her feet getting dirty again. Hermione did use magic to dry her flesh but left her hair dripping whilst she finished getting dressed in her – he moaned – tight thigh hugging jeans that shaped her pert butt. He watched as she pulled a strappy vest top over her head then a denim jacket that fitted perfectly. Kingsley sighed. She was no longer the unassuming school girl he met the summer of 95.

“Do we have to get back on the thestral because...?”

“No,” Kingsley said as he whipped out his wand and a handsome silver lynx erupted from his Expecto Patronum. Immediately the animal brushed and purred against her thigh. “Ahem, he doesn't normally do that!” he said embarrassed that his Patronus was acting out his desire.

“He's adorable,” she said as she bent down to stroke under his chin. The Lynx seemed to smirk as it lazily licked along its lips as it affected a yawn. “I best let Kingsley give you the message, hadn't I?” she smiled.

The Lynx padded over to Kingsley. The wizard chuckled a little: “Tell Hagrid that the thestral is out by a stream in...” Hermione cast a location charm and mouthed it. “In Hodnet. Shropshire. We are now Apparating to you know where!”

They watched as the Lynx leaped into the air and glided out into the night to seek out Hagrid. Kingsley then took her hand and smiled.

Was he blushing? She looked down at herself and shook her head, no. He could not be. He was a big, powerful Auror and she was still, to all intents and purposes, a school girl. Nothing about her would make a strong man like him blush. She smiled as she accepted his hand. She could Apparate herself but she was rather tired and she knew she would be doing a lot of that in the near future as Harry could not and he'd need her and Ron to help.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I am,” she replied.

Moments later they had arrived at the Burrow. Arthur stood at the door wand pointed: “What question did I first ask your parents when we met them in Diagon Alley?”

“What's it like to never be able to use potions?”

“YOU what were the first words you said to me when you first met me in 1983?”

“So _you're_ the guy with the big balls!”

Hermione was shocked that Arthur made _that_ his security question to Kingsley. It was only when both men looked at her wide eyed expression that they realised a young woman was in their midst and felt a little ashamed.

“I think we'd better choose another security question,” Arthur mumbled.

Kingsley smiled: “Yeah, we would not wish to...”

Hermione snorted: “Hey, my best friends are Harry and Ron – they can swear up a storm sometimes.”

Kingsley shuffled his feet and then walked in. Arthur turned to his second daughter: “Yes, Hermione, but we _are meant to be_ adults and...”

“So am I now, Arthur,” her eyes sparkled in the dark.

“I know and I find that fact sad – you were never a child – were you, Hermione?”

She shuffled her feet and shook her head. No, she was never allowed to be a child. Her parents loved her genius and encouraged it. Her mother hoped to send her to an All Girls school. Her father made her watch Open University programmes with a notebook on all manner of subjects. All throughout her life she had been touted as a brainiac and not much else. Even when she found out she was a Witch her parents made her read her books, take notes, they'd read the ones they could understand themselves and quiz her. She had not wanted to know-it-all but her upbringing only gave her an eidetic memory.

“No, I never was allowed to play as a girl.”

Arthur led her in the house where Molly had brought her over into the warm kitchen, sat her down, wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and shoved a cup of cocoa in her hands. It would do no good to tell Molly that she was fine. Molly would hear nothing of it.

“Thestral!” she tutted. “MADE a girl who despises flying – _hop on a thestral_ – what if something had happened to her ? What if she fell to her death? What if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had decided to spook the creature – even worse – what if _they_ captured her?”

Hermione knew Molly had to utter her grievances aloud otherwise she would become mad with even more worry.

“Nothing like that happened,” Arthur sighed. “She is fine, Kingsley is a capable fighter and flyer. I am sure that she did her fair share of duelling.”

“She was magnificent,” Kingsley complimented. Hermione beamed at that compliment.

“I take it I will be sharing with Ginny?” Hermione asked.

Did she just imagine a slight slump of Kingsley's shoulder just then? If she had not, then, what did it mean?

“In Fred and George's old room,” she sniffed. “Fleur is currently in Percy's room.”

Kingsley sighed: “Well, that's me finished.”

“Stay right where you are, Kingsley Emilius Shacklebolt!”

Hermione laughed at his full name. Kingsley, however, sent a full throttle glare at Molly's back: “I am not your child,” he said, “I am going back...”

“YOU are staying here – you are exhausted, tired, and probably going to catch a cold by being up in the air. A sleeping bag is laid out in the living room.”

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand. “Has anyone else returned yet?”

“Harry, Remus, Tonks, Fleur, Bill and the twins with that ruffian and Alastor.”

“Hmm, so all of them then?”

“Mad-Eye is with Mundungus so I highly doubt they will return together,” Molly sniffed showing her disapproval for the Order's resident rogue. “Hermione, you look skinny, I will get you a plate of food.”

Before she could refuse, Molly had made a pile of sandwiches on one plate and good portioned slices of cake on another. “I'll take these upstairs then, convey my apologies to Harry but I am sleeping standing up right now.”

“Not until I see you eat something off both plates,” Molly said.

Hermione took a triangle of egg mayonnaise into her hands and began eating. She'd not mind if this was made from supermarket cut slices but these were Molly's cut slices. She wished she could dislocate her jaw the way Snakes could do so she could swallow the portions down. However, she ate with Kingsley watching her. She was about to offer some to him when Molly had plated him similar sized portions. So, she was expected to eat these by herself? Rolling her eyes, Hermione smirked as she began eating in earnest. At least the food would help her sleep. She was on the third round when Bill and Fleur arrived. Fleur looked a little ill and told Molly she would take a glass of water up to bed. Hermione wished she could have the confidence to say no like Fleur was able to. It must be something to do with her make-up. That need to be wanted. She'd learned to be wanted, she could not say no, and that sometimes led her into danger. Or, she grimaced as she pulled the cake plate over to her, indigestion!

Once Molly was satisfied Hermione stood up and proclaimed her evening farewells to everyone: “Kingsley, thank you for washing my back for me,” she said calmly giving him a sweet kiss on his temple, the spot tingled warmly for moments after.

He spat out the food in shock and looked up to see a glaring Molly with fists on her hips: “I hope you did so with decorum, Kingsley Emilius Shacklebolt!”

Kingsley blushed realising any excuse would die on his lips. So, he continued to eat silently. When full he walked over to the living room on a sleeping bag with his K sewn on – he smiled. Molly was the eternal mother, even to him. There was a pair of muggle joggers and white tee-shirt folded neatly under a pillow. He was more exhausted than he thought he was. The moment he got in the bag and rested his head against the pillow he fell asleep. It was only a momentary thought that Molly must have laced the food with sleeping potion. He'd forgive her. This once.

* * *

He awoke to the sound of a soft scuffle in the kitchen at – he groaned – 5am. The Auror in him responded with fast reflexes as he was on his feet, wand in hand, in less than seconds. He stalked through the living room, stepping elegantly over the other sleeping bodies. The light that escaped through the cracks of the door made him feel a little silly. This was fideliused property. No one of ill intent would spend their time skulking in the kitchen. He placed his wand in the tight band of his joggers. Silence was key though as he charmed the door to open quietly.

He took a deep breath when he saw Hermione standing at the sink humming a muggle song.

“Just like a muse to me,

you are a mystery,

just like a dream

you are not what you seem

 

Just like a prayer

no choice

your voice

takes me there!”

Swaying to the hypnotic rhythm her resonant voice invoked, in nothing but a mid thigh length strap cotton white chemise, Kingsley felt his mouth dry up and he could only quench his thirst in her mouth. The image she displayed with the white fabric that stood in sharp contrast to her nutmeg tones, that were highlighted by the burgeoning sun rise of the new dawn captivated him.

Then her tone switched to a different song:

“Divine intervention

couldn't keep the word from

leaking

_ow ow ow ow ow ow ow_

put your pleasure in suspension

not to mention what you're hanging around

 

If you need a lead to heaven, yeah

the place to share

your gonna feel a thing

 

what do you dare

what do you care

what does your heart say now!

 

All she wants is, all she wants is, all she wants is...

 

MORE!”

Kingsley could not believe how sensual a simple hip sway could be, especially when the nightgown had become translucent in the golden light. She was an absolute vision of the Goddess of the dawn. Hermione simply heralded all things new and marvellous about life. He especially adored the way she moved to the beat of the songs she was singing.

“Prince Charming, Prince Charming

ridicule is nothing to be scared of

Prince Charming, Prince Charming

ridicule is nothing to be scared of

 

silk or leather, or a feather,

respect yourself and all those around you

silk or leather, or a feather,

respect yourself and all of those around you...”

So he watched, mesmerised, as she did an odd step to the latest tune. Wondering why she was twisting her wrists in the air. Then she spun on her heels in an elegant pirouette, her bed ruffled hair flying behind her. Now she was in front of him. Hiding nothing as her see-through garment did not hide anything from the imagination. Her eyes closed, her face serene. Kingsley's breath was struggling to be kept inside. Hermione was unaware of her surroundings as she sang her strange songs.

Then she tapered down to just dancing to some hidden rhythm in her heart that was like an invisible stupefy that had hit him in the eyes. He did not mean to but he had to. His throat was sore so he coughed. Waking her out of her reverie! She was shocked to see him standing there – his arms folded across his chest. His biceps bulging out of the sleeves of his crisp white tee-shirt. The startling contrast made her mouth water.

“Um,” she blushed twisting her hands in the fabric of her chemise, “how much of that did you see?”

“Something about a muse is a mystery, getting all she wants, presumably with Prince Charming,” he smirked.

Ashamed she buried her head in her hands and groaned with embarrassment: “Sorry,” she mumbled.

He shrugged: “Don't be,” he assured her, “personally I happen to like Duran Duran.”

Hermione peeked through gaps in her fingers to see if he had been serious in his pronouncement, finally appeased she lowered her hands to reveal a bashful countenance: “Then I apologise for butchering them.”

“You did not,” he replied. “I enjoyed your singing, do you do so often?”

“Only on my own,” she said calmly.

“Then you are depriving the world of a glorious talent,” he smirked.

Hermione shuffled nearer the sink, suddenly aware she was practically naked in the presence of a panther of a man. Suddenly she turned around, grabbed a clean glass off the rack and poured out some water. She heard the soft movement of feet coming forward then an intense heat spread down her abdomen. The real reason she was awake so early were because of her definitely back room in a video store style dreams involving Kingsley and, to her eternal bemusement, Lucius Malfoy.

She jolted a little when she felt hot hands settle on her waist: “Are you always this awkward, little lynxette, or only around me?”

“Don't flatter yourself, Kingsley,” her voice echoed hollowly to her ears. She coughed only for it to take on a husky quality. “I'm always this awkward around everybody.”

Kingsley leaned down to smell the shampoo she had worked into her hair the previous night in the stream – bringing back some wonderful memories of when they were just man and woman. The strap on her left shoulder slipped down. Unbeknownst to either they were being watched by a pair of brown eyes frowning, in the shadows.

Kingsley snuggled his cheek into the crook of her neck – goosebumps formed on her flesh – the girl beneath his nose sighed as he pressed his lips to the softest part of her throat.

“Kingsley,” she sighed. “I don... don't thi... think thi... this is a goo... good... id...idea,” she stammered as he turned her around so he could gauge her reaction and gaze into her beautiful eyes.

His hands had travelled up her waist, feeling her skin, leaving hot waves of pleasure in their wake as her core tingled pleasurably to this vital man's touch: “Is there any other objection, Lynxette?”

Hermione gulped as she parted her lips, he took the message and smashed her mouth to his in a passionate kiss that seemed to be building up inside them the moment she wrapped her arms around his waist on the thestral. Hermione moaned as his tongue probed for further exploration. She parted her mouth wider than before as his tongue played with hers. Slowly at first, as if they were shy, bumping against each other carefully so as not to offend. Soon he became bolder as he stroked her tongue with a broad sweep of his. Suddenly her legs were around his waist as she held tightly onto the back of his head – tongues stroking, caressing, tangling and playing. Chasing around each other's mouths to get as much of the other as they could.

He felt her nipples harden, delightfully turgid against his own. His hands found her breasts, she arched into their confident but gentle hold. Her moans were swallowed by his mouth. She felt his rock hard tumescence probing her.

“All Right That's Enough!”

“RON!” Hermione squeaked as she slipped down Kingsley's magnificent thighs. “I didn't think...”

“NO, YOU DIDN'T THINK DID YOU?” He yelled his eyes showing nothing but contempt and poison at the couple in front of him, “how dare you cavort around with nothing on with an older man. What type of harlot does...”

The whole house-hold had woken up by now and they all watched the show. Some confused. Others intrigued. The twins smirked playfully. Fleur and Ginny shared a _look_. Harry shook his head as he heard Ron call Hermione a tart.

“He's two years older than Remus, that does not make him ancient!” Hermione said in defence.

“Yeah and you're five years younger than Tonks!” Ron said.

The couple clasped their hands together wishing they could warn the young hot-head before he ruined everything that could be. “Hermione is not a harlot, Ronald,” Kingsley said in defence of his almost lover. “She is a beautiful, powerful witch. She is warm, good and kind. I know Hermione through her aura...”

Ron scoffed: “Trelawney said she doesn't have one!”

“Oh she does, Ronald, I see it. A bright golden aura. Surrounds her smile, her eyes, interwoven in her hair. Hermione is pure gold.”

She beamed beside him. This beautiful, wonderful and brave man who was involved in two Wizarding wars described her as pure gold! She was bubbling over with affection for this gorgeous human being.

“Besides, Ron,” she sighed. “I am not a virgin you know!”

“YOU... WHAT?” Ron's face bulged in purplish hues that made him appear like a red-headed aubergine.

“Fifth year,” she said smugly.

“WHO WAS HE?” Ron roared.

Hermione briefly considered telling him a lie but decided the truth was far more fun: “Theodore Nott... then Blaise Zabini... Terry Boot... Elias Smethwick...” she felt triumphant as her list grew to include older students. “A muggle friend,” she refused to reveal his name as she had some suspicions regarding him, “oh and Viktor, of course!”

“GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE, NOW!” Ron bellowed.

Ginny rolled her eyes and shut her brother up with a spell then turned to her mother: “Does Hermione have to leave?”

“Of course not,” Molly smiled. “She is welcome here always. Don't listen to Ronald, dear, but perhaps you should keep your libido in check in the future.”

The twins nodded as one and stood either side of their younger brother putting their hands on Ron's shoulders, turned him around and led him out into the garden as they decided to tell their sibling all about how girls develop faster and remind him that Hermione _was_ several months older than him. Fred took extra care to note that he would inform Ickle Ronniekins that she was smokin' hot and he'd join her list of men any day.

Hermione sighed as she turned a shy gaze towards Kingsley : “Sorry about Ron, he always forgets I am a woman and not a ...” he pressed a finger to her lips, leant down and whispered something in her ear that made her blush before replacing his finger with his lips, a scorching kiss to tell her this was _not_ over.

Ginny and Fleur walked up to a rather dazed Hermione and helped her up the stairs. Fleur thought her friend had good taste in men. First Viktor then Kingsley.

“Don't worry,” Fleur said, comforting Hermione with a rub of the arm. “Kingsley is more your type – he is good looking, oui?”

“He's hot!” Ginny almost drooled.

Harry followed behind thinking; I'm too sober for this...

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I may continue this...


End file.
